


Dress Code

by Rabentochter



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Coffee, Dressing Room Sex, Established Relationship, Eye Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Humor, I shall abuse that tag till the day i die, Idiots in Love, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, Kissing, M/M, Nicky is a brat, Orgasm, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Smut, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Staring, Suits, Tie Kink, awful clothes, mostly smut though, so people who want to read about orgasm can find the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26836603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: Joe can tolerate a hell of a lot when it comes to his husband, but he draws the line at Nicky running around in rags.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 17
Kudos: 243





	Dress Code

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NamelesslyNightlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/gifts).



> How dare you come onto my fic and say “sugar daddy Yusuf” without then offering to do something about it?? 👀  
> — NamelesslyNightlock Sun 04 Oct 2020 12:36PM CEST 
> 
>   
> As always, thank you for the challenge, the beta'ing, and the summary help, Lou ❤️  
> 

Yusuf felt his heart stop.

He was a man of many virtues and he knew what a disaster his Nicolò could be, especially when it came to fashion. He was a lost cause. A cute lost case, that was for sure but this outfit? It really killed Yusuf. It was a remarkable gift that he’d been blessed with _dies-but-doesn’t-stay-dead_ skills because otherwise? He’d be as dead as the toast in his hand.

“Nicolò, what are you _wearing?”_ He asked.

“An outfit?” Nicky replied gently.

“Yes, _Yes.”_ Yusuf waved with one hand, and covered his eyes with the other. He couldn’t bear the sight any second longer. He needed—

It was maybe around seven in the morning, he was just enjoying _breakfast_ while Andy and Nile talked quietly, so he could wake up in peace while Nicky took a shower. Without him. But yes. Sometimes, too much was _too much_ and how could—

A bright blue shirt with flower patterns and truly _colourful_ trousers. They were— _mustard yellow_. Yusuf refused to think of the colour as _pee_ because he’d rather not see his Hayati wrapped in piss and wearing it as if it were a complete edition of a Gutenberg Bible. That reminded him, he still needed to follow that trail to see if the vendor was lying or honest. Nicolò loved books, enjoyed reading about his religion and reflecting on it.

It never failed to make Yusuf’s heart sing with pride when he found him lost in his musings, theorising before they ended up talking about it. There was _still_ the spirit of a priest in him, and even when he didn’t agree with a lot of things anymore– it still had been, still _was_ his passion.

“Nicky,” Nile started, interrupting Yusuf’s deserved brooding and despairing. “What in hell’s name are you _wearing?”_

“Don’t you like it?”

“ _No,”_ Nile said in such a tone that killed all and every argument instantly.

Yusuf decided at that moment that Nile owned his heart. Because Nicky didn’t hold it in his hands, Yusuf refused to allow it when he had touched _those_ atrocities, had put such things over Nicky’s wonderful body. A bath would be in order later, he decided. An extremely thorough one until nothing would remind him anymore of that _disaster_.

He glimpsed through his fingers at Nile, who looked _exactly_ like he felt. As if horror had walked through the doors, with twelve eyes and three legs and stinking of foul eggs.

“Nicky,” she said. “I’m not going out with you while you’re wearing that.”

Yusuf could have kissed her. He didn’t, of course, but it was a close thing. Instead he patted her hand and squeezed it as a thank you. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. They shared a look of mutual understanding and dislike. Not hate yet, hate was too strong a word for this situation. But Nile had style.

Andy didn’t, no matter what she claimed. A jeans and a shirt and some leather gloves looked cool, _yes_ , and Yusuf was well aware that Andy had success with her outfit — but it lost its charm after having seen it for the nth-time. _Always_ the same outfit. He needed to convince Nile to take Andy out for a shopping trip sometime soon. They _all_ needed to relax anyway because Andy was still mortal, a big issue for them all, herself included. And, Booker was gone.

Not funny times at all, if you asked Yusuf. That was a huge factor why he and Andy had sat down together while Nile and Nicky had been playing word games the night before, to hatch an idea as to how the group could do a bonding session.

The plan had been to go to a museum today. They loved museums. Not everything was correct and they had made a bet a long, long time ago who’d find the most errors. He was pretty sure Andy was playing foul because she wasn’t _winning._ Or Nicolò simply had a better memory than he let on.

Yusuf took a deep breath before he turned toward the abominable colours again. Although, it was no hardship to face Nicky. He chose to focus on his eyes, his pale blue eyes that looked as if they were dancing in mirth. He narrowed his own eyes to slits.

“I also refuse to go out with you like that.”

“Amore mio, _Joe—”_ Nicky pouted. “I don’t see the issue. It’s only clothes.”

“Yes,” Yusuf replied with a blank face. “Only clothes. You look like a smurf who fell into mustard. No. _No.”_ He shook his head. “The museum will happen tomorrow, we’ll go and get you new clothes.”

“That’s not nece—”

“Yes, it is,” Nile interrupted Nicky with glee. “I promise it is the most necessary thing.”

“Is it as necessary as drawing in air?” Andy asked dryly.

“Yes,” Yusuf and Nile answered in unison. They shared a high-five. Thankfully, someone who shared his opinion. It felt like the weight of a Gerald R Ford Class aircraft carrier was lifted off his shoulders.

“But—” Nicky tried to protest but his words were lost on Yusuf as he made the mistake of looking _down._ It really looked as horrible as he remembered it.

“Time to go!” he announced with a joy he didn’t feel. “Have a fun day, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and don’t let Andy dictate how to make a good _coffee_.” He scrunched his nose. “Really, don’t.”

He caught Nicky’s wrist in one hand, got his baseball cap with the other and put it on with a flourish.

The sun was shining, blinking tiredly through the clouds as if she didn’t want to look at Nicky’s state either. The thought put him into a decidedly better mood. It was still extremely early in the morning, he was still living under the protection of not needing to talk much. He appreciated that Nicky let him have his silence, and only pulled his wrist free to interlace his fingers with Yusuf’s.

They stopped on the way to get some coffee. Nicky loved cappuccinos, and Yusuf loved kissing the milk foam from his lips. That was the only way he accepted milk with coffee. He sighed contentedly as they kissed again, a hand sitting loosely on Nicky’s hip. _Now the morning could begin._ Nothing cheered him up as much and made him feel as awake as when he was allowed to kiss this beautiful man who’d promised to always be at his side, and who had his back like no one else did.

Yusuf didn’t doubt that Andy loved him— only it was a different kind of love, that didn’t run any less deep. Yet Nicolò was his life. They had gone through trials and countless difficulties before destiny and they themselves had allowed them to reach this point where they could share kisses without fearing the other would plunge a knife into their back. He only regretted that it _had_ taken them so long though it made for an incredible anecdote nowadays.

“Good morning to you, and you only,” Yusuf whispered, still hovering close to Nicky’s lips. “Your clothes, I cannot see.”

Nicky’s mouth curled into a smile. “You often don’t see them.”

“It is not my fault that you look like a gift given to me when you wear none.” Yusuf relented and caught Nicky’s lips into another kiss; one that lasted longer as he opened his mouth to Nicky’s probing tongue. He tasted of cappuccino and warmth, nothing Yusuf could imagine he’d get enough of in his entire life.

Someone cleared their throat next to them pointedly.

They took that as a sign to keep moving, their coffees still warm and good to drink.

When Nicky tried to walk into the next best H&M, Yusuf rolled his eyes with a grin. “No, hayati, this is not where we’ll exchange your rags.”

“Yusuf.” Nicky sighed. “We—”

He tsk’ed gently and led his man further down the streets, until the H&M was nothing more than a faint memory of khaki shorts – he still couldn’t believe Booker had managed to talk Nicky into buying _those_. That had been payback for insulting Booker’s precious Verlaine. Nicky had _known_ about that, Yusuf didn’t buy his act of innocence, he refused to believe that Nicky would miss out on an opportunity where he could tease him. 

Yusuf’s gentle grip needed to turn into a secure hold when Nicky realised _which store_ Yusuf was dragging him into.

It was one of the finer stores, where you got served champagne that prickled on your tongue and had you ah—

 _Taste stars,_ like someone truly ingenious had put it. Yes.

Yusuf offered a sly grin to Nicky when he gave up trying to escape and accepted his fate. Oh, to be bought a new suit, the _horror._ He barely managed to contain the burst of laughter, but he was in a professional store. Nicky had known what was coming from the moment he’d stepped over the threshold of their current situation; in fact, he’d probably been _betting_ on it, hadn’t he?

“He needs new attire,” Yusuf said to their salesperson. “I refuse to walk around with him if he looks like that.”

“Like a lost and drunken tourist, you mean?” The other man offered with a raised brow. “That nobody gave him money as he walked through the city is…”

“Yes.” Yusuf nodded. “Please, take him from me and out of my sight. The next time I see him, I want to forget this outfit the second I am laying my eyes on him.”

“That,” the salesperson said, “I can promise.” He tsk’ed gently. “Can I offer you a refreshment while you’re waiting or are you going to come back in an hour?”

“I’ll take the refreshment,” Yusuf replied. “And don’t listen to what he says, his taste in fashion is horrible at best. You can take his word though when it comes to anything else.”

“I heard that.” Nicky looked at him with an arched brow.

“Of course you did.” Yusuf offered him a bright smile that didn’t fail at doing its task. It made his man shake his head with a soft laugh on his lips. “Now, begone with you.” He let go of his wrist, feeling the absence of Nicky’s warm hand in his like the absence of his sword at his back.

He was offered a simple entrée: tomato and goat’s cheese tartlets that tasted almost as good as the cappuccino had. The creamy sweetness of the cheese mixed together perfectly with the acidity of the tomatoes. It reminded him of his Nicolò and he knew– that they were merely a few swords’ lengths separated from each other but it felt like wars stood in between them.

But when Nicky returned, the entrée tasted like ash in his mouth.

What was goat’s cheese against seeing Nicky draped in fine dark blue that emphasised his strong arms, the broad shoulders? A grey tie was dangling around his neck like a tease. Fine silver lines were woven through the grey tie, and they reflected in Nicolò’s eyes, making them shimmer all the more.

This time, Yusuf’s breath was simply stolen because he was stunned by the vision his husband made.

If he had the skill for it, and had been tasked with whittling the most perfect man, then he would turn the block of wood into a statue of Nicolò to honour his flawlessness. There would be strong and smooth strokes, to capture the power and confidence he radiated, only a few harsh cuts to capture how unrelenting and hard in his justice he could be.

He would spend hours capturing the fineness of his eyes, recreating the warmth he radiated and the gentleness. Yusuf was ready to give everything he owned, even his beard, if this moment wasn’t interrupted. Everything faded out and blurred into the background, the blue light of the lamps hanging above them, the salesperson who looked like a smug cat — it was all nothing against Nicolò.

“What do you say?”

“That the mere sight of you steals my breath,” Yusuf replied. “That I’m lucky to be allowed to call you mine, ya helo.”

“Charmer,” was Nicky’s response but it was the way his eyes lit up—with such ardour that Yusuf made sure to cross his legs. He absorbed the image in front of him, thought of potatoes before he got up, feeling more in control of himself again.

He stood in front of Nicky with a few long strides, admired and inspected him from up close.

“You had a suit that fit him?” he asked in astonishment.

“Almost,” the salesperson replied from the side. “It sits a bit too tight around his shoulders when he lifts his arms but that is easily fixed. But it’ll cost extra,” he added as if in afterthought.

It wasn’t, Yusuf knew that. Yet, he only offered a nod. “Adjust it.” He ran a hand over the material. “Cotton?” he asked with a frown.

“Indeed. I thought of worsted wool first but he insisted that he needed to be able to move well in his suit.”

Yusuf looked towards Nicolò, silently communicating. He appreciated that his love had the foresight that sometimes they would need to run or fight in the most unusual and unluckiest timings for which cotton was truly suited but—

He still wished to show his partner off in a more serene setting; somewhere that no trouble followed them on close heels. Where Yusuf could simply enjoy Nicky talking about _ships_ and armour, and all he needed to do was to listen to his partner, get lost in his eyes and voice.

“If you have one made of worsted wool, and cashmere?” Yusuf turned his head towards the salesperson whose eyes sparkled all sudden. “I’d like him to try them on as well.”

“Joe,” Nicky said and his voice was almost breathless. “That’s too much, I—”

“It’s not even close enough.” Yusuf offered a smile that didn’t feel as coy as he hoped it was. “Go and get dressed.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A shiver went through Yusuf and he hurried to sit down again, to calm his racing heart.

He knew it was a lost cause because this was _Nicolò_ he was thinking about here but still—

The cashmere suit made Yusuf aware of what a lost cause he was, his eyes trailing over the firm figure, the elegant cut and he only managed to suppress a groan because he _needed_ to. Nicolò threw him a wink which was naught but indecent before he disappeared again to try on the next, and thankfully, _last suit._

It was dark grey and it looked—

Not bad but it definitely wasn’t _wool_.

“It’s silk,” the salesperson offered helpfully with a preen.

And Yusuf allowed him to preen. Because _oh,_ the silk against the light blue shirt, the dark blue tie, it was _gorgeous_.

He stood up without a comment, to get a closer look at this perfection that was called _Nicolò._

“Perfect,” he eventually said, as his eyes had feasted upon the sight. It hadn’t been enough, _not yet_ but for now, for now it had to suffice. Nicolò turned on his heels, offering him to admire his backside as well.

And this was truly, _truly_ wonderful. His ass, so firm and tempting– mere decency made Yusufs’ hands stop so he didn’t indulge himself not even when Nicky made sure his eyes were drawn down again. It looked– all in all, nothing less than perfect.

Now, with his sword strapped to his side, a gun at his back?

There was a new heat blazing through Yusuf and he swallowed hard, cleared his throat as he felt lust boil in him. He’d have to ask Nicky about it later, if he would be amenable to Yusuf’s vision. He’d look great, he just knew it.

“We’ll take them all,” he decided, and he left no room for arguing as he scrambled for his card in the depths of his trousers. “Can we pick them up this evening?”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful, thank you.” Yusuf couldn't tear his eyes from the silken suit and the tie, that looked perfect for other uses too— “And we take this one as it is right now.”

“Of course.”

The salesperson disappeared towards the back.

Yusuf didn’t mind as he pressed closer to Nicky, letting him feel what kind of effect he had on him. It made him softly whimper in response.

“Thank you,” Nicky said quietly and his lips sought Yusuf’s, bestowed a kiss upon them which made his head spin. “Really. I appreciate it, and they feel so good to wear, too.”

“I know,” Yusuf replied, his hands at the silk on Nicky’s hips. “This one in particular.” He thrust his groin forward the same moment he went for another kiss that was decidedly less _sweet_ and spoke more of his hunger. “The dressing rooms?” he asked in a breathless whisper.

“Are free.” Nicky grabbed his hand before he led him towards them. Nobody stopped them because nobody was there. “The vendor disappeared into the back, we have to—”

“Hurry?” Yusuf interrupted with a sharp grin. “I don’t think I’ll have any trouble with that.” And because it was only _them,_ he reached down from Nicky’s hip to his ass, gave it a firm grope that had the other pressing his fist into his mouth so as not to alert the salesman.

They disappeared into the dressing room fairly quickly after that. Yusuf had Nicky pressed against the wall, the curtain drawn closed.

It was only them. The silk on Nicky’s body, his heavy breathing against Yusuf’s skin when he buried a hand in his hair to pull him into a kiss to show him how he felt, how _fucking much_ he affected him by merely existing in the same room.

Goodness.

Yusuf couldn’t get enough, the silk felt too good beneath his palm and Nicolò was already fumbling at his belt. He loved the feeling of fingers brushing against his growing erection, and a sharp hiss escaped him. They had to keep quiet, didn’t they?

Yet he loved to hear Nicky’s voice. _Society,_ Yusuf thought with a distaste he couldn’t feel in his heart and he grabbed the tie, almost shyly.

“I love the suits,” Nicky breathed as Yusuf gave it a playful tug that made him stifle his moan and bend his head. Arousal was coursing through his every vein, filling him with want and greater love for this man, this gorgeous, _gorgeous_ man who was here with him. “And I love you too, the suits are just—”

“I know,” Yusuf replied before he buried his face in Nicky’s shoulder as warm fingers found their way beneath his pants and gave his cock a quick stroke. If lust was electricity, then he was now running on a thousand volts. “I love dressing you in good things,” he admitted in a whisper. “I would give you all the suits on this world if it makes you smile and _oh—”_

His eyes fluttered shut as Nicky’s hand started to stroke him in earnest. It was dry, it would chafe if they didn’t use spit or something at some point but—

He pressed his lips against Nicky’s throat, traced his carotid and felt his pulse beat quicker for no fathomable reason. He tasted salt; a hint of the lemon shower gel Nicky loved to use, it was a love cocktail like Yusuf had never tasted before.

“Mæ memöia, what would I be without you,” Nicky rasped and his free hand was carding through his hair. “You make me feel so good, so cherished and treasured—”

Yusuf looked up, his gaze locked with Nicky’s blue eyes that were dark and hooded by arousal. It was such a titillating sight that the hand wrapped around his dick felt magical. He surged forward with a desperate groan of his own, pecking, nibbling at Nicky’s lips, tried to inhale him and capture his entirety.

His arousal was starting to grow overwhelming, one hand was still wrapped around the tie and he gave it a sharp tug that made the other groan with want.

If it was possible, Yusuf’s arousal grew more and he started to feel lightheaded — lost in this haze of lust and want, Nicky’s hands on him, feeling like they were _everywhere_ and not a single patch of his skin was left unclaimed. The idea enticed him, tempted him so much that he started to suck at the tanned skin until a mark would be left behind.

It was absolutely intoxicating how good Nicky felt against him. The cool shift of silk against his hand, so different to the warmth that was boiling inside of Yusuf until he felt like he needed to explode.

Nothing though— nothing felt quite like Nicky’s evident arousal when Yusuf pressed a hand around it. The startled moan, how his cock grew beneath his hand, was there anything more enticing than this?

Yusuf bit down on the shirt, _ruined it_ as he felt the pressure snap taunt inside of him and he was coming all undone.

When he regained his composure he started to knead Nicky’s cock through the fine material, stroked him and kept kissing him sloppily until he felt him cuming.

For a moment, they only breathed heavily and it was the only sound they heard.

“I think I might have got cum on my suit,” Nicky decided to break the silence with a huff of laughter. “It’s _new_ , Joe.”

“New and now looks even better,” he countered before he gave him a last kiss. Then, he pulled tissues out of his pockets and cleaned them up as well as he could. “Now, I think Andy and Nile might be waiting.” With that, he sauntered out of the room, leaving Nicky spluttering behind him.

It was adorable.

He got his card back from the salesperson who looked decidedly like _I-shall-not-speak-of-what-transpired-though-I-know._

“We close at eight.”

“We’ll be back at seven,” Yusuf offered with a charming smile and walked out of the door with his Nicky and his fancy new suit.

Andy would laugh when he told her, he already knew that. Nile would be the only one who would _understand_ what had prompted Yusuf to buy all the suits.


End file.
